The Mind's Eye
by Angel16
Summary: Trip's having some very intense nightmares...


The Mind's Eye 

By: Angela Koerkel

Rated: R, several strong scenes (IMO)

Disclaimers: Nope, I still don't own 'em, Paramount does. This is just for self-torture.

Summary: It's Trip; it's T'Pol; what else do you need to know?

Genre: Angst/Romance

Spoilers: Through 'Observer Effect'

On with the show:

"So, how bad is it, doc?" Trip Tucker asked with a nervous voice from inside the decontamination chamber. He knew it was serious. Sweat had already broken out on his brow and he had begun shaking uncontrollably. In the far corner of their solitude, Hoshi was clearly passed out; the only sign of movement from her were the occasional convulsions that racked her small form.

The uncommonly morose Denobulan physician looked through the small window at his two patients. His frown was etched deeply across his broad face as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Commander. I'll do everything I can."

Trip nodded in acceptance and moved off to lie down. Sleep took him swiftly as the virus ravaged his body. Dr. Phlox watched on the monitoring system, sadness filling his heart. He would have to work quickly to save his comrades.

XXX

In between fever-induced bouts of unconsciousness, Commander Tucker wondered idly how long it would take to die. He always thought he'd be scared of dying, but he wasn't. Lately he'd discovered that there are things worse than death. Resigned to his fate, he closed his eyes again and let the dreams come.

Trip walked alone down the empty corridors of Enterprise. A ghostly pale light was the only illumination and there seemed to be a cloudy quality to the air. He wandered aimlessly for what seemed like hours. Occasionally, he called out, but no one else was around. Sighing deeply, he continued his solitary tour.

At last, he came to T'Pol's quarters. Hoping for the best, he rang the buzzer. When he was greeted with only silence, he decided to let himself in. Trip made his way slowly across the room, allowing his fingers to trail across the desktop as he went. He sat down in front of the meditation candles and lit them.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and was warmed throughout his body by the exotic scent that reminded him of T'Pol. As he sat there, simply breathing, he felt another presence in the room. Opening his eyes quickly, Trip was surprised to find the object of his affections standing only a few feet away. He jumped to his feet at once. "Hey, T'Pol. When'd ya' get here? Where is everybody?"

"I have been here all along, Commander. I've been waiting for you," she answered. Her lithe body moved toward him, an air of sensuality about her.

As she raised her arms and encircled them around his neck, he tried to back away. "Wait a minute, T'Pol. We've been through this. Yer married, I have to respect that."

In the next instant, he knew he was in trouble. She smiled, an almost feral grin with bared teeth, as she backed him further across the room. Without another word, she pushed him down onto the bunk and straddled his now prone body. Reaching out, she ripped his shirt open so that he was bare to the waist. The corners of her mouth curled up again and she licked her lips slowly as her gaze traveled over his nakedness.

Trip found himself speechless as he lay there under her. He was completely defenseless thanks to her far superior strength, and it occurred to him that he didn't mind all that much. He might hate himself in the morning for violating her marital vows, but for now his body was all too willing to cooperate.

T'Pol pinned his wrists above his head as she leaned down and devoured his mouth with her own. As her hips ground against his groin, he moaned into her open mouth. Within seconds, his anatomy betrayed his morals and she growled with desire when she felt it. The Vulcan woman moved faster than he could comprehend in his current state. Before he knew what had happened, she had stood and stripped out of her catsuit. Then, she removed the rest of his uniform just as quickly and returned to her previous position across him.

Their bodies moved as one as an endless passion united them in a timeless dance. "Oh God, T'Pol," he whispered as she writhed atop him. She responded by biting his neck until she drew blood. He didn't even notice. He felt a familiar tightness forming low in his belly. It grew and expanded while her pace quickened. At last, she threw her head back and screamed in pleasure as he exploded deep inside her.

The next thing he knew, he was tied up along a wall in engineering wearing only his boxers. "What the hell?" he muttered as he looked around. T'Pol, now dressed in traditional Vulcan robes, stood off to the side a little, holding what looked like a whip in her hands. "T'Pol," he called out. "What's goin' on here?"

She walked menacingly toward him, carrying the whip up over her shoulder. "What did you think would happen, Commander? Did you expect that just because we spent one night together that I would have 'feelings' for you?" Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought.

"What? No, I don't know; what's goin' on? Come on, T'Pol, let me down." He tugged uselessly against his restraints.

"I don't think so, Commander. I think you need to understand that I have no attachment to you." With that, she reared back with the leather whip and swiftly brought her hand back around. The weapon tore across his bare chest leaving a welt in its wake as he cried out.

Trip gasped for air, trying hard to contain the pain. He gulped in several large breaths as he brought himself under control. He raised his head to lock gazes with his lover. "Why are ya' doin' this?" he finally managed.

She paced back and forth in front of him, carelessly waving the whip through the air. "Because, it's who I am, Trip. Cold, distant, uncaring. Isn't that what you think of me?"

"No, no," he implored. "I know that's not true; yer warm, lovin', deeply committed to yer friends and family." He paused for a moment as he caught his breath again. Whispering, he continued, "Ya' have feelin's, T'Pol. I know it; I've seen 'em. They're real and they're strong."

"Liar!" she spat, whip coming down hard on his flesh again. "I am Vulcan. I am logical. My feelings are nonexistent."

He shook his head as the blood welled up under the fresh wound. "Ya' can beat me all ya' want, I'll never believe that." He raised his head in defiance and prepared himself for another blow. It never came. As his eyes drifted to her hands, he noticed that she now held a large knife. It gleamed under the artificial light of the warp engines.

"You have not yet experienced pain," she said as she came closer to his body. His heart pounded deep within his chest and he was breathing rapidly in fear.

"Ya' don't want to do this, T'Pol." He wasn't sure exactly what she had planned for that knife, but it couldn't be good. He played his last card. "I love you, no matter what ya' do to me." With that he closed his eyes and waited to feel the blade.

This time he wasn't spared. He screamed until he could scream no more, then he opened his eyes. She stood there, the most beautiful woman he knew, and the woman he loved more than anything, holding his beating heart in her hand. He looked down in disbelief until he saw the gaping wound in his chest. He expected to die any second, but he didn't.

Trip's heart continued to beat and he continued to live. After a few minutes, she reached out and pushed the pulsating organ back into its rightful place. Instantly, the wound sealed itself up and he felt no more pain from it.

As he met her gaze, she smiled a soft, sad smile at him. "I'm sorry, Trip. I can't seem to stop myself." Again, she reached out with the knife and repeated the horrible procedure.

This went on for what seemed like days. At first, he would try to talk to her, convince her not to hurt him. He begged, pleaded, argued logically, spilled his emotions, but still she continued. Eventually, he stopped trying and just let it happen. Finally, he heard another voice.

"Commander Tucker? Can you hear me?" Phlox was speaking slowly, as if to a child. Trip seemed to be shaking, too, but he wasn't sure from what.

Trip shook his head violently, attempting to bring himself back to reality. At last, he opened his eyes and found himself not in T'Pol's self-made chamber of horrors, but in Sickbay, looking at the worried countenance of Dr. Phlox.

"What the..." he faltered. Looking around, he noticed he was no longer in the decon room. Now, he lay on a biobed in the main Sickbay and he saw Hoshi on a nearby bed, evidently asleep.

A small smile finally crept over the doctor's features as he released his hold on his patient. "Welcome back, Mr. Tucker." He stepped back a length from the bed and began to explain while he did a quick exam. "I finally found the cure for the virus that you and Ensign Sato had been infected with. You were in quarantine for nearly a week, but it looks like you're going to be just fine."

The worry again passed over the Denobulan's face. "You seemed to be having quite a nightmare, however. Would you care to discuss it?"

Trip said, "No thanks, doc. I'd rather just forget it." And he lay back down for some much needed rest.

XXX

It was the middle of ship's night when the doors to Sickbay whooshed open to admit a solitary visitor. She had intentionally waited until this late hour in the hopes of privacy. It was not to be.

"Ah, Commander," came Phlox's voice from the office as he stepped out to welcome her. "What can I do for you at this hour?" He kept his tone soft so as to not disturb his sleeping guests.

Momentarily taken aback by his undesired presence, she considered simply leaving, but that would not solve her restlessness. Ever since Trip had taken ill, she had been plagued by anxiety that she could not quell. Now that he was recovering, she hoped that visiting him would alleviate the problem. Turning toward the doctor, she answered, "I merely wished to check on Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato."

Smiling broadly, the physician responded. "I see. Well, they are doing well and should be back on duty within a week." He seemed to expect that this would placate the First Officer's concern.

"Would it be possible to see him, them, for a moment?" she uttered, staring ahead at the drawn curtain.

"Of course," Phlox stated, at last understanding the real problem. "He's sleeping now, but it's been rough. He seemed to be quite delusional during the illness and nightmares have continued to disturb his rest, so please keep it short."

She began walking toward the hidden bed. "Thank you, doctor." Stopping briefly, she turned to face him again. "For everything."

He smiled as a slight red tinge flushed his face. He waved a hand in her direction. "Go on, now. But, remember, make it quick."

T'Pol moved around the curtain gracefully and surveyed the sleeping form of her...what? She had found herself wrestling with that question lately. True, she had promised herself that she would rededicate her life to Surak's teachings and had believed that that left no room for compromise when it came to the emotions surrounding Commander Tucker. But, then he became ill and she thought he would die. Suddenly, logic was a very cold companion, one she could not foresee being content with for the rest of her days.

She knew now what she wanted, and as she stood beside his sick bed, it was all she could do not to break down at the sight of him. Instead, she reached out and placed her hand on top of his where it rested across his abdomen. T'Pol allowed their fingers to intertwine as the first warm tears leaked from her eyes.

Trip opened his abruptly and became instantly terrified at the sight of T'Pol leaning over him. When he realized she was holding his hand, he jerked away. "Why are ya' here? I won't let ya' hurt me again!" He tried to sit up in the bed and scoot away from her.

For her part, T'Pol moved back from him just as quickly, fresh tears flowing down her face at the look of pain in his eyes. Finally, she regained enough control to speak. "Trip, I'm not going to hurt you. Why would you think that?"

A mirthless laugh escaped his lips. "Right, 'cuz you've never hurt me before."

Before she could come up with a response to that, Phlox appeared at the curtain's edge. "Commander," he addressed T'Pol, "I think you should go for now. I'll talk to you tomorrow." She backed silently away and nearly ran for the doors once she was clear of the partition.

XXX

T'Pol moved through the next day in an efficient manner. She performed her duties, nothing more, nothing less. Her mind, and heart, was otherwise occupied as she tried to reason out Commander Tucker's reaction to her visit the previous evening.

When she was finally off-duty, she headed straight for her quarters for some much needed meditation. As she sat in front of the burning flame, she allowed her thoughts to drift over the past few months and her relationship with Commander Tucker. She mentally sorted through conversations and categorized the emotions they had engendered. Although things had been difficult lately, he had never treated her in such a way before.

Suddenly, her comm. panel called her out of her trance. "Phlox to Commander T'Pol."

Rising, she walked over and toggled the switch. "T'Pol here, doctor."

"Ah, yes, Commander. Could you come to Sickbay, please?" came the disembodied voice.

"I am on my way," she answered without hesitation as she turned toward her cabin door.

XXX

Within moments, T'Pol and Dr. Phlox were seated opposite each other in the physician's office area. She looked slightly perplexed as she contemplated his information.

"Do you understand, T'Pol? What happened last night was the result of Commander Tucker's delusional state and nightmares. He didn't know that you were real." The doctor seemed quite pleased with this bit of information, as if it made everything all right.

T'Pol, however, viewed the situation as worse than before. "If that is so, Doctor, then the Commander subconsciously perceives me as dangerous. He believes in his mind that I have hurt him severely, and will likely do so again." She hung her head.

She hesitated a moment and then whispered, "May I see him now?"

Nodding profusely, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips, the doctor answered, "Yes, yes, of course."

The normally formidable woman hesitated on the far side of the partition. She paused as she took several deep breaths in preparation for facing what she feared most, a possible future without Trip Tucker in it. Gently she pushed the curtain aside and walked to his bedside.

T'Pol was surprised to find him awake and sitting up, reading what appeared to be the latest reports from Engineering. "The Captain ordered you to take full advantage of your recovery time, did he not?"

"He did, and I am. I'm takin' full advantage by usin' the time to get caught up on the ship's status." He lowered his gaze and then looked up again from under hooded lids. He shyly said, "I'm sorry about last night. I guess I was still a little out of it."

She moved closer to the bed. "We should discuss your...fear of me." She tried to sound controlled, but to his trained ears she came across as anxious. She cast her eyes down as a slight greenish tint moved through her features.

"T'Pol," he began as he pulled a hand through his hair. "I'm not afraid of ya'."

Her face raised and she met his gaze. "You are a poor liar, Trip. You believe that I will hurt you," she paused for a fraction of a second, "again."

Trip took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and slowly exhaled. He repeated the procedure several times. She watched intently as he practiced a relaxation technique she had taught him months ago during their neuro-pressure sessions. She wondered if he was even aware that he was performing the maneuver perfectly. Her concentration was broken when he spoke.

"All right, T'Pol, ya' want to talk about this, let's talk. I'm not scared that yer gonna hurt me again, and I'll tell ya' why. Because ya' told me yourself that 'we' are in the past. So, I guess it's a take the good with the bad kinda moment," he said. "Like I said before, it's probably for the best."

T'Pol felt as if she were drowning. She couldn't catch her breath and all of the blood seemed to have rushed to her head.

Phlox came into the small cubicle at just that moment. She took the opportunity to depart, silently. "Is everything all right, Commander?" Phlox asked Tucker once she had gone.

"Yeah, doc, just peachy." He settled back against the pillow. "When can I get the hell outta here?"

XXX

Captain Archer approached Trip in Engineering several weeks after his release from Sickbay. "Hey, Trip. Isn't it about the end of your duty shift?" He clapped his friend on the back and smiled good-naturedly.

"Yeah, Cap'n. I'm just finishin' up these reports before callin' it a night," the southerner answered from his desk chair. He dropped several padds down on the cluttered tabletop and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.

"Those can wait 'til morning. Come on, let's go have some dinner and catch up." The Captain had made every effort to regain the friendship that had suffered so much during the mission in the Expanse. As a result, the men tried to share a meal and some downtime together at least once a week.

Looking up at his commanding officer and friend, Tucker smiled warmly. "Ya' got a deal. Let's go." He followed Archer out of the small office.

They walked in silence for a short time, headed towards the Captain's Mess. As they arrived and accepted the meals brought to them by the steward, Archer began the conversation. "So, have you talked with T'Pol lately?"

Trip cast a wary glance in his friend's direction, eyes squinting, trying to determine if there was an ulterior motive behind his question. Deciding against it, he answered. "No, not really. Except for ship's business, I don't think I've talked to her in weeks."

The truth of that statement stung. He missed her severely, but had determined that he would not sit at her heals like some lovesick puppy dog. She had dismissed him after her marriage ended, and he had to accept that. Obviously she didn't want any sort of personal relationship with him any longer.

Nodding, the Captain placed a forkful of food into his mouth. He chewed in quiet contemplation, and then went on. "It seems she's turned into something of a hermit. I thought if anyone had seen her, it would've been you."

"Sorry, Cap'n. Can't help ya'." Tucker ate his dinner in relative silence, concern for T'Pol overriding any comfort he had felt at having the old camaraderie back with his Captain.

As the meal ended, Archer said, "So, now what? Want to go watch a water polo match?"

"Thanks for the offer, Cap'n, but I think I'm gonna turn in." Trip rose from his seat slowly. "I got a lotta work to do tomorrow and after that dinner, I'm beat!"

Laughing, the Captain rose too. "All right. Another time then?" At Tucker's nod, he continued. "Sleep well, Commander. See you tomorrow." The old friends parted ways for the evening.

XXX

'Dammit! Why do I do this to myself?' Trip Tucker admonished himself as he paced the corridor outside T'Pol's door. He'd spent the past five minutes just walking back and forth over the same twenty feet, trying to decide if he should push the buzzer. At last, he went up to the switch on the wall and pressed it.

It seemed an eternity before the door opened to reveal a very tired looking Vulcan dressed in nothing but a blue silk robe. "Yes?" she started before she realized who it was at her door. "Trip?" her voice faltered as she stepped aside. "Please, come in."

Tucker followed her silently into the room and the door closed behind him. They stood awkwardly, as far apart as the confined space would allow. "I...I just wanted to check on ya'," he admitted. "Cap'n mentioned ya' haven't been out much; I think he's a little worried."

"I see." T'Pol looked down and stared at her arms folded across her midriff. "The Captain was worried." Disappointment dripped from every syllable as she spoke.

"He's not the only one," Trip added quietly. When she looked up, he said, "What's goin' on, T'Pol? Why're ya' holdin' up in here like some Vulcan High Priest? Nobody ever sees ya', except on duty. Ya' take yer meals here, which I happen to know ya' don't even eat half the time. Ya' don't come to movie night anymore. It's like we're back to square one and humans are too inferior for ya' ta bother with."

"That is not the problem, I assure you. I simply wish to spend my time in private meditation." She met his gaze and held it. "It seems I have made some errors on my journey back to the path of Surak and it has taken all of my discipline to find solutions."

His heart beat a little faster. Was she saying what he thought she was? Did he want her to be saying it? It had been hard enough the last time he lost her; he didn't think he could survive it again. Unbidden, the nightmare that had plagued him ever since he contracted that damned virus came to mind. He envisioned her beating him and cutting out his heart repeatedly. Shaking his head to clear the image, he tried to control his breathing.

"Really? Havin' any luck? Solvin' those problems, I mean?"

Cautiously, she took a step closer to him. "Not as of yet, although I am hopeful that a solution can be found." Another step.

Attempting to retreat, he backed into her locker. With no place left to go, he stood his ground. "Well, since that's all it is, I'll let the Cap'n know not to worry." His speech got slower as she got closer. His blue eyes met her brown ones and he didn't dare look away.

"Trip," she whispered as she raised her hand to his cheek.

He interrupted her as he ducked away. "Listen, T'Pol, I really should go now." He moved for the door.

"Can we not talk?" she asked.

He closed his eyes to regain some semblance of strength. "What is there to talk about? Ya' made it perfectly clear that there was no room in yer heart for a personal relationship. And I refuse to be nothin' more than a meaningless fling for ya'. Ya' mean too much to me for that." He held her gaze again. He dared her. "Give me one good reason why I should stay."

They stared intensely at one another. After a few seconds of silence, Trip continued. "That's what I thought." He headed for the door. It opened and he got one foot into the corridor outside before she called to him.

"Trip! Please wait!" He looked back, incredulous. Swallowing hard, she said, "I love you."

Tucker nearly fell back into the room. "What did ya' say?" he asked, fearful for his own sanity.

"I love you. Please, don't go." Their eyes locked and he saw the tears pooled in hers.

He walked to her and started to reach out, but hesitated. "I love ya', T'Pol, but I have to tell ya' somethin'." She nodded silently and he went on. "Ya' nearly killed me these past few months, between marryin' Koss and then tellin' me that we were over." Pausing, he breathed deeply before going on. "If ya' tell me that this is fer real, and ya' want to try and have a life with me, I'll be the happiest man in the universe, but if it's not, tell me now, I'm beggin' ya', 'cuz I couldn't take it if I fell any more in love with ya' and then ya' changed yer mind."

It felt as if the whole universe was on hold. He was certain he'd stopped breathing and just when he thought he'd die of lack of oxygen, she smiled! It was just a little upturn at the corners of her lips, but it was the first smile he'd ever seen on her. Suddenly, his lungs began to work overtime, as did his heart which began thumping so hard he thought it might leap from his chest.

"Trip," she approached him and placed one hand gently against his cheek. He closed his eyes and nuzzled it. "I love you. I have spent my time lately in meditation and study, trying to ignore, forget, and rationalize those feelings, but the fact is that they are real and I do not wish to be rid of them." He opened his eyes to absorb her features, just centimeters away. "I will always be Vulcan, I accept who I am now. And part of that acceptance means acknowledging my feelings for you. It would be illogical to deny our destinies." She stepped into the small distance between them and placed a delicate kiss on his lips. "This is not a fling and I am not going to change my mind."

Something snapped inside the mind of Charles Tucker at that moment. He whooped loudly as he grabbed T'Pol up in a tight embrace and swung her around in a circle. Setting her back down on the solid deck plating, he leaned in and kissed her deeply. As he withdrew, he said, "Could we have a neuro-pressure session tonight? I've been havin' a doozy of a nightmare lately."

End


End file.
